


Under the spreading chestnut tree

by ayumie



Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Angst, Black Claw wins, Except he doesn't, M/M, Sean gets everything he thought he wanted
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-04
Updated: 2017-03-04
Packaged: 2018-09-28 07:54:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10080257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ayumie/pseuds/ayumie
Summary: In a world in which Black Claw rules supreme, Sean has gotten everything he ever wanted. Or has he?





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JollyCat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JollyCat/gifts).



> Dear JollyCat, I was going to gift you something cheerier, but then I couldn't get this idea out of my head. Anyway, here's to you and your work :)
> 
> As always feedback makes me happy!

Oregon in summer was beautiful. The soft light of the late afternoon gilded the landscape and time and again Renard found his mind straying. The children would be outside, enjoying the fine weather, while he was making a token attempt at catching up on his paperwork. Even his desk was dappled with sunlight, bright spots shifting as they filtered through the leaves of the stately chestnut in front of the window. Not for the first time, Renard considered having the tree cut down and not for the first time he decided against it. Another hour or so and it would be enough for the day. This week was a rare chance to be something akin to a normal family and he intended to make the most of it.

 

As though summoned by his thoughts – which actually might have been the case – the door opened and Diana ducked into the room. Her Woge rippled across her features as she approached and Renard answered in kind, reflex now even in a greeting among family members. He smiled at his daughter, once more struck by the beauty of the young woman she had become. The most powerful Hexenbiest in recent history, fiercely intelligent – and still his little girl. She had had to grow up quickly in this new world they had built, but she had adapted with the tenacity of both her parents, learning to control her powers and growing into a serenity that was all her own. Her brother was hard on her heels, face bright with excitement. Both childrens' hair was tousled, cheeks wind-burnt and reddened. They had spent the day exploring the vast grounds of the estate, taking full advantage of all the freedoms they were denied in the city. The two of them had horses here, there were bikes and quads and since Adalind had chosen to stay in DC no one to curb their adventures. He wasn't spoiling them, Renard told himself. They were good kids and deserved to have a little fun.

 

Kelly threw himself across the room, all but jumping up and down.

 

“Daddy! We went riding and we saw a bear! A real bear! Diana made it stay still so we could look at it. It was huge!”

 

“Really? And it didn't eat you?”

 

Listening to his son's excited chatter, Renard couldn't help but smile. Kelly had just turned eleven, a bright, vivacious child anyone would be proud to call their son. It had surprised Renard at first, to find himself fiercely protective of a child not even his own. Of course it was human nature to nourish the very young, but even as Kelly had grown bigger the urge to protect hadn't faded. Kelly  _ was  _ his for all intents and purposes.

 

That was when the call came. The news should have frozen his blood, stilled his breath or any such metaphor, but in reality Renard felt nothing when he heard the words. He didn't have to think. All the plans had been laid out, the preparations made long in advance. Half listening to Kelly's excited chatter, he flipped through his phone. His contacts were sending pictures and – yes. Yes. He looked up, met Diana's eyes.

 

“Sweetheart, could you take your brother to his room and send Vera in? I'll need to talk to you as well. As soon as possible.”

 

His daughter didn't ask any questions. Renard bowed and pressed a kiss to Kelly's forehead, ruffling that dark hair. Something tight lodged in his throat as Diana took her brother's hand and led him out.

 

Little later, a gentle knock at the door announced Vera's arrival. She bowed her respect as she entered, as all humans must, but straightened to look at him after. He did not require his people to keep their eyes downcast – not here anyway.

 

“We are expecting a special guest. Have one of the suites prepared – and the room in the basement, the one we had reinforced three years ago.”

 

“Yes, sir. Right away.”

 

Nodding his thanks, Renard motioned for the woman leave. Vera had been with him for several years, could be trusted with delicate tasks. It was regrettable, in a way, that she could never hope to rise higher than this, a position in his household, but such was the new law and even working within its confines there were certain opportunities. Not everyone had been clever enough to see that.

 

For a few blessed minutes, he was alone. Leaning back in his chair, Renard briefly closed his eyes. Not long now. A day or two at most. His mind was still curiously blank, the kind of shock that stilled the mind. Then Diana returned and Renard straightened. It wouldn't do to fall apart now. His daughter deserved better.

 

“Hello, sweetheart. Please sit down. There is something I need your help with.”

 

Diana tilted her head, a pretty, inquisitive gesture that reminded Renard of Adalind. Her blue eyes were shadowed, unreadable.

 

“Of course, Daddy. You know that I'm always happy to help you.”

 

He did know that. Drawing a deep breath, Renard forced himself to meet his daughter's eyes.

 

“It is about Kelly's father.”

 

“You have found him at last.”

 

“He was apprehended two days ago in the Czech Republic. I'm having him moved here as we speak.”

 

For a few moments Diana didn't say anything, taking time to consider the things Renard wasn't saying, work out the implications.

 

“He is a Grimm.”

 

“So he is.”

 

There were very few choices for Grimms these days. A few of them had been brought into Black Claw, but even they were watched closely, constantly. Those that remained out there could be legally killed on sight – or, if captured, turned over to the government for a reward. Diana would know all that.

 

“I can help.”

 

Said calmly, a mere observation of facts. Then she frowned: “Mother will not like this.”

 

“Your mother would like the alternative even less. I can get a permit to keep a Grimm for my personal use. He would be safe.”

 

A slow nod. Diana was nothing, if not practical.

 

“He has been fighting all this time?”

 

“He is Kelly's father.”

 

Renard and Diana shared a smile. Kelly had always been a sweet child, but he was also utterly stubborn when he thought he was in the right and not above throwing the occasional temper tantrum. Another nod, more assertive than the one before.

 

“So he would be staying with us?”

 

“I suppose he would. But, sweetheart, nobody can know that he is Kelly's father. Your mother and I agree on that much, at least. It is better for your brother to be all Zauberbiest.”

 

A Zauberbiest. His beloved son, Diana's beloved brother. Even Adalind had come to realize as much, although in one of her drunken episodes she had accused him of trying to make up to Kelly everything he had done to his father. In his darker moments, Renard thought that she might be right.

 

Turning his attention back to the matter at hand, Renard watched his daughter straighten. She fished a scrunchy from her pocked and gathered her hair in her hands, twisting her blonde curls into a neat ponytail. Her eyes briefly glowed blue as her clothes seemed to smooth themselves out. She was very much a young lady.

 

“Very well. Call me, when he gets here.”

 

Releasing a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, Renard nodded.

 

“Thank you, Diana. And tell your brother he can take the helicopter into the mountains tomorrow. He liked that, the last time we came here.”

 

His daughter grinned, suddenly all little girl again.

 

“Why don't you tell him yourself? You've been cooped up in here all afternoon and it's almost dinnertime.”

 

*

 

The room in the basement had been prepared to Renard's exact specifications. Walls of bare concrete, several inches of steel for a door, no windows, no furniture. Nothing that could be used as a weapon. Cameras had been mounted in all for corners just below the ceiling – a mere precaution, considering Nick was delivered heavily sedated and strapped to a gurney. Looking down at Nick's pale face, Renard waved the leader of the squad that had handled the transport away.

 

“I'll take it from here. Apply to my staff for payment.”

 

The man hesitated in the door.

 

“You sure you want to be alone with him, sir? He woke up twice on the plane, nearly managed to get free the second time. Killed eight of my men before that.”

 

Hundjäger, Renard thought with some distaste. It would have taken quite a few of those to take Nick down. Not deigning to answer the man, he turned to Vera instead.

 

“Lock the door and have a guard set. I want guards all around the premises. The basement is off-limits to Kelly for the time being. My daughter – tell her that our guest has arrived. She is to wait outside until I call her.”

 

“Wait, sir?”

 

Renard threw her a dampening glance. Long-standing staff member or not, she could keep her disapproval to herself.

 

“Wait. I want to talk to him, first.”

 

Nick didn't look much like the detective or the Portland PD Renard had known – or even like the brief glimpse of the Grimm he had caught three years ago, when the sorry remains of HW had mounted a last, desperate attack on Black Claw's DC headquarters. A scraggly beard covered the lower half of his face, but it couldn't hide the sallowness of his complexion, the shadows under his eyes. His clothes seemed too big for his body, all skin and whipcord muscle where there had once been smooth, firm flesh. The shirt Nick had worn was in rags, one sleeve torn off, skin covered in bruises, crawling with dirt except for one patch at the upper arm, where the tracking chip had been implanted. No matter. All that was easy enough to remedy.

 

Given the shape he was in and the treatment he had received, Nick shouldn't have woken for at least a day. As it was, it took barely an hour for him to stir. When those blue eyes cracked open, Renard drew a sharp breath.  _ They  _ were still the same, for all that they were glazed and unfocused.

 

“You...”

 

“Hello, Nick.”

 

Nick's eyes briefly fluttered shut again, but he rallied quickly, coughing as he tried to speak. He should have brought a bottle of water, Renard thought disjointedly.

 

“Where...?”

 

“Oregon.”

 

Dazed as Nick was, the sluggish turn of thoughts was easy to read on his face, the slow realization why he had been captured rather than executed. His expression was still hazy, though, hostility dulled by whatever drug he had been given.

 

“My … son?”

 

“He is outside – probably having the time of his life making some poor helicopter pilot chase after clouds. I've kept him safe, Nick. You'll see him soon.”

 

“Tell me...”

 

“Kelly started middle school this year. He's smart – if he spent a little more time studying, he'd be a straight A student. His favorite subject is English and he's joined the track team. He's popular, too. His best friend is a Jägerbär. You wouldn't believe the trouble the two of them get into. I probably don't know the half of it, considering they have Diana to clean up after them.”

 

Nick's eyes were glued to Renard's face, wary, searching. They had shielded the children from the media as best they could, so news of Kelly would have been rare.

 

“Woge...?”

 

Renard shook his head.

 

“Not yet. Adalind is starting to worry, but I told her to give it time. No need to push him into it, when we don't know-”

 

He cut himself off, but Nick understood anyway.

 

“Half-Grimm. Doesn't know?”

 

For a moment, Renard didn't know how to answer. Of course they hadn't been able to tell Kelly. He was still so young, prone to blurt out whatever came to his mind. More selfishly, revealing the boy's heritage would inevitably lead to further questions, questions which Adalind would be only too happy to answer. It would change the way Kelly looked at him. Forcing those thoughts away, Renard once more focused on Nick.

 

“He looks a lot like you,” he said quietly, “His eyes, something about the ways he smiles. He is brave, too. A few years ago he fell off his horse and broke his arm – he barely cried. Got right back on the damned animal the moment the doctors allowed it. You would have been proud of him.”

 

“Always proud.”

 

For a few precious seconds, they looked at each other with perfect understanding. Then the moment was gone and Nick shifted, head turning this way and that as though to gain a better sense of his surroundings. When his eyes settled back on Renard, there was an angry glint in them, a sharpness that had not been there before.

 

“Oregon, huh?”

 

It was easy to see which direction Nick's thoughts were taking. He would have heard of this place, perhaps even scoped out the security measures. Stubborn to the last. A smile tugged at Renard's lips even as he reached out to trace the angry red line on Nick's biceps, feeling the heat, the swelling.

 

“Don't, Nick. Even if you made it out of this room and past the guards you wouldn't get far. See, you've already been chipped.”

 

That got him an angry growl that would have done a Blutbad proud.

 

“Are we at the point where you tell me what you're gonna do to me? Bet you've been looking forward to that.”

 

There had been moments when Renard would have gladly put a gun to Nick's head and pulled the trigger. At other times, though...  At least the Grimm's speech was getting clearer, less slurred. Nick's bonds wouldn't allow him to jerk away, so Renard let his fingers rest lightly over the tracker. He could feel the shape of the metal under the skin, knew that if he were to press down Nick would jerk, whimper. As far as Renard was concerned, dwelling on the past had never done anyone much good. He didn't have time for regrets, not when there was so much to do. He had had such hopes when he had first learned one of his detectives was a Grimm, such dreams. 

 

“Things were easier back in Portland, weren't they?”

 

A faraway look crept into Nick's eyes. Then his mouth twisted.

 

“Not that much easier. I saw that interview you gave – the one about joining Black Claw, how you hesitated for a long time.”

 

There had been so many interviews. Renard tried to remember what he had said – something close to the truth, if he remembered correctly. He shook his head.

 

“Let's not go there.”

 

Nick bared his teeth, more snarl than smile, anger descending like a shield.

 

“You're right. It doesn't make a difference.”

 

“No, it doesn't,” Renard agreed, even as he fought the urge to look away. “Diana is waiting outside.”

 

For the first time there was something like fear in Nick's eyes. He turned his head, tongue darting out to moisten cracked lips as he looked around.

 

“No. No, you can't.”

 

It was exasperating, really, the way Nick wouldn't admit defeat even now. Anyone else would be grateful they weren't dead. The Grimm bared his teeth, fists clenching. Renard could sense Diana's presence outside of the door, her impatience. Now that it was almost time, he found that he was strangely reluctant to proceed, aware of the finality of what he was about to do. As though sensing his hesitation, Nick shifted, eyes narrowing.

 

“You won't.”

 

“You're too dangerous to let go.”

 

Nick smiled at that and, with a sigh, Renard withdrew his hand and took a step back. He could feel the Grimm's eyes on him, sweeping up and down his body. Nick would have seen him on TV, but that was different, all make-up and camera angles meant to flatter. Renard knew that the last years had taken their toll on him as well, albeit in a somewhat different manner. He was close to fifty now, with gray creeping into his hair and new lines around his eyes and mouth. Diana kept telling him that he looked tired. He was tired, Renard admitted to himself. Too much work trying to change Black Claw into an actual administration while containing its more extreme elements. Too much rich food and alcohol. Too much of everything. The power was sweet, though, and there were always the children. Renard shook his head.

 

“It is over, Nick. Fight this, if you must. I will not insult you by asking you to surrender.”

 

It was over. It had to be. Nick would have a comfortable room that night, all the rest he needed and as much food as he could eat. He'd get him a doctor as well – it was hard to tell with the bruising, but there were probably old injuries that had never been properly treated. Renard turned to the door.

 

“Wait!”

 

Nick wouldn't beg, not even now. His mouth worked for a moment, then his whole body tensed and he threw himself against his bonds, fighting in earnest now. Nothing could ever be easy when it came to the Grimm.

 

As though on cue, the door swung open. Even solid steel couldn't keep Diana out – or prevent her from satisfying her curiosity. As she approached, Renard thought that he saw something like pity in his daughter's eyes. He paused briefly, struggling to find a smile.

 

“Best get it over with. Leave him as much of himself as you can, but he has to obey. I want him happy with the way things are.”

 

**The End**

 

 

“Under the spreading chestnut tree I sold you and you sold me: There lie they, and here lie we  
Under the spreading chestnut tree.”

 

\- George Orwell, 1984  


 


End file.
